


i am not yours

by GhostsandGhouls



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Angst, M/M, lowkey silverflint if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:14:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27661883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostsandGhouls/pseuds/GhostsandGhouls
Summary: For a moment, John believed he could be happy with James
Relationships: Captain Flint | James McGraw/Thomas Hamilton
Comments: 4
Kudos: 14





	i am not yours

**Author's Note:**

> it feels like forever since I wrote these two, and I really missed them  
> idk what this is, a relationship analysis? a character analysis? an exploration of John realising his feelings and how he should let James go?  
> well it is what it is
> 
> listen to _[this song](https://youtu.be/yTCHi0R-Pqg)_ if you wanna get into my head of where this came from; I was listening to it on repeat while writing

For a moment, John believed he could be happy with James, he could confess and they’d live a life away from any war. Small looks and gentle touches seemed to assure him that it was reciprocated, yet they still danced, in what seemed to be an endless cycle, tip-toeing around any sincere subject.   
  
John felt alive with James, every subtle nudge made his heart flutter. Then he heard James’ story, of his love he lost, and it was almost like an invitation for John to put himself in that role. To love openly. But he couldn’t when he heard Max’s story and found Thomas.   
  
He shared something with James, it was still proven in the way James came to him first. Some would call it a disease, Billy even did once, told John that they were both suffering. John knew it, they were suffering in silence; James because he didn’t have Thomas and John because he knew he  _ couldn’t _ ever fill that rule, he would never stand as highly as Thomas still does.   
  
John still saw James in every single one of his dreams but now they were twisted and dark, like a nightmare. James wasn’t his, no matter how many times they shared a look or their hands lingered for a moment too long. It hurts like hell, and he can’t do anything about it, they’re stuck.   
  
He hates how he has the solution in his hands but he doesn’t want to give it up, he wants to keep James.   


John looks up when he hears a book slam down onto the desk. He gets up and makes his way over on just the crutch, pausing at the chair. He’s vulnerable right now, trying to stand tall on one leg while watching James as he writes and he wants to  _ say something _ . But he doesn’t.   
  
It’s James who does, in his usual gruff manner. “Sit down.” John follows and slides into the chair. “How’s the leg?”   
  
“Sore. But It’s easier without the boot, I just don’t like the men seeing me this way, like a fucking cripple.”   
  
“They don’t think that of you,” James looks up and John stops breathing for a second, lost in those green eyes. Green, the colour of jealousy, and John can’t help but find it ironic because he is jealous of what James shared with Thomas. But despite all his anger and rough words, James’ eyes held no malcontent, they were sad and clouded. “John.”   
  
“I thought you didn’t care what the men thought.” John spits back, it’s unintentional and James doesn’t even flinch or blink, he’s almost completely unmoving, there’s only the sign of the steady rise and fall of his chest.   
  
“But you do.” And James says it like he might as well be saying: ‘ _ that’s why it matters to me _ ’, but John knew he wouldn’t admit that. “You’ve been distracted lately.” James puts down the quill and gets up to move to John’s side, bending down to touch his leg.   
  
It feels intimate, the way James leaves long, lingering touches above where John’s leg ends as if he’s caressing every scar. As if the mangled sight might be beautiful to him. “Thomas is alive.” John voices, it’s sudden and James visibly recoils, staring up at John like this could be a dream. “It’s true. Max told me about a way to hide unwanted family members so I had my men look into it and they found him in a plantation.”   
  
“Wh...Why?” James blinks away his surprise and John watches as his brows knit together. “Why would you tell me this  _ now _ ?”   
  
“Because you can go to him. What we’re searching for right now isn’t as important.”   
  
There’s a pause, a stasis, James just blinks, looking conflicted and John wants to grab him, shout at him to go because this is how he runs away from everything. This isn’t only an out for James, it’s a chance for John to run from his feelings. Very real feelings, ones that tell him if he grabbed James, he could kiss him.   
  
They could never truly be happy though.   
  
“John.” It sounds like a plea and John doesn’t know if James is saying his name  _ now, _ of all moments, to shake him, to make him want to kiss James and yell at him not to leave. John could have taken this secret to the grave, James didn’t have to know. He doesn’t know if this plea is James asking him to clarify the truth of the statement, to ask for a boat to go, or if he’s asking John to tell him it's made up so they can stay together.   
  
“Hands can take you to him. I can take you.”   
  
“If it’s not true…”   
  
“It is.”   
  
James’ frown seems to deepen, he gets up and returns to his chair, leaving John feeling the remnants of his touch in the warmth dancing around his leg. “Okay.” He finally responds and John almost feels like crying, he gets up to return to his previous spot, leaving James at the table alone.   
  
This physical distance is a sign of how John has pushed James away. He’ll be fine, he won’t regret this.

_ But he will. _   


* * *

The trip to the plantation is torturous, but John holds his head high the whole way, sometimes catching sight of James looking out the window. There’s a sense of loss in the air and John feels like he might cry at any moment, and while he does want John to be happy, he almost wishes he could take back telling James about Thomas.   
  
He can’t help but wonder if they could have been happy.   
  
And the carriage comes to a stop, his heart falls into his stomach. James climbs out and it takes a moment for John to follow after him, not because he struggles but because he’s worried that he’ll grab onto James and hold him there, he had to tell himself, again, that this was for the best. James isn’t his.   
  
“Are you sure?” James asks, staring at the gates.   
  
“He’s in there.”   
  
James turns his head to look and he pauses, as if trying to say that isn’t what he means. It’s like he’s stopping himself from saying more and John feels the same way, he wants to ask him to stay but it isn’t his place to do so. “I can go to him…” James whispers and takes a step towards the gate, John’s heart _breaks_ and he freezes when James looks back. “John, I won’t forget you, or this. What we had. Whatever the fuck it was, it was and I’ll always—”   
  
He cuts himself off and John wants to scream, but instead he takes a step back and lets Israel step forward. “Well, I—” John cuts himself off too and turns away, unable to look at James for a moment longer. “Go to him.” He says instead, cold and aloof. It’s easier this way. James had broken his heart without really knowing but John would keep it like that. He didn’t want to hurt James back, not one bit, because he isn’t as hateful as he gives off and he would rather see James being happy…Even if it’s with Thomas.   
  
They were each other’s, and John knew it. John might always be James’, a piece of him at least, but James...James would never be his, he was already Thomas’ and always would be. John hears the creak of the gate and he makes his way back to the carriage as quickly as possible, he pulls the door closed and looks down, sucking in a harsh breath.   
  
James was gone, alive but gone, lost to John forever. He’s behind that gate with Thomas now and John didn’t care if Israel caught a tear or two when he returned. It was quiet and still, John only looks back up once the carriage moves and he looks back at the plantation, grasping at the carriage window, stopping himself from reaching out for his lost love.

For a moment, John had believed he could be happy with James.


End file.
